


Glass Doors in Coffee Shops

by pandaholic



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Fluff, Humor, barista!bellamy, coffee shop AU, i just really like sassy characters oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 07:18:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4254348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandaholic/pseuds/pandaholic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it’s exam week and i run a coffee shop near the campus and you walked right into my glass door i’m laughing so hard oh my god au</p><p>or why glass doors pose a safety hazard to sleep deprived college students and Clarke and Bellamy are both sarcastic assholes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glass Doors in Coffee Shops

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for any mistakes or typos, as it's 1am and this is going up unbeta'd. Hope you guys like it!

It was 6:00 PM, and already she felt exhausted despite having an endless amount of textbook pages to study for her finals. The library atmosphere was crowded and suffocating with stressed students, trying to cram months of information into their minds for finals. Clarke Griffin had come to love her premed major, but in her current condition, she had decided it was her most regrettable decision thus far in life. 

Octavia had recommended a small cafe a few weeks back, and most importantly, the walk there from the library was very short. Right then, caffeine was the only thing that could save her from dozing off and drooling on pictures of human anatomy. If it happened, maybe she’d at least absorb some content through osmosis. 

That was how she ended up with her face smushed against the door of Mt. Weather Cafe like a bird who had flown into instead of through a glass window. In her defense, the door was clear and she had been preoccupied with a passionate conversation about the scientific and medical inaccuracies of Grey’s Anatomy. Scrubs was a more accurate representation of working in a hospital setting anyways. Raven was probably just doing it to aggravate Clarke, which made it all the better or worse, depending whose side one was on. 

With her dignity shattered, she collected herself and entered the establishment. Of course, she noted that this was the day of all days when a hot person was working. Damn you and your perfectly  
disheveled hair and cute freckles and how is it actually possible to look that good in that apron?

“You alright there, Princess?” he teased from behind the counter, snapping Clarke out of rambling, internal monologue. He could barely contain the wide grin and hysterical laughter that was escaping from his employee-serving-customer persona. 

Cursing her problematic depth perception, she marched up to the chuckling barista. “Please tell me you guys serve white chocolate mochas this is an emergency. And yes, I am alright.”

Her face was very flushed, possibly from embarrassment or the actual collision.

Smirking, he responded, “Well it’s your lucky day, Princess. Sure you didn’t get a concussion there?” He gestured towards his own head.

She crossed her arms defensively. “I’m flattered by your concern, Mr. Good Samaritan, but I think I would know as a premed major if I was mortally wounded. Medium for Clarke, please. C-L-A-R-K-E. And stop laughing at me. ”

“Alright, I guess I’ll just have to trust your judgement then. I apologize for my amusement I’ll make sure I never laugh in your presence again. Medium for Clarke, coming right up,” he said as he marked her order on a cup. 

Looking around the shop, she found it was empty. At least no one else saw me walk into that door. She decided to set up her laptop in view of the coffee counter, running through Quizlet for her Cellular Biology course. Today, of all days, she had to meet a hot barista while regrettably dressed in sweatpants and a large hoodie. 

Since there was no one else in the shop, he brought the drink out to the figure huddled over her laptop. “Medium for Clarke.”

Snapped from her focused daze, she saw the drink that he presented in front of her. “Thanks. I just really needed my coffee to get me through studying this crap,” she said with more than a hint of exasperation. 

“No problem, it’s my job,” he teased. “Don’t let premed kill you. And try and stay away from running into more glass doors.”

She playfully quirked an eyebrow, “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you liked me.”

He held up his arms in defense, “Hey, it’s just liability issue for the shop. So far we’ve had zero incidents of hospitalized college students, and we’d really like to keep it that way.”

Her eyes twinkled as she smiled over her drink, “If you say so.”

She hoped that he missed her small smile when she saw the small crown drawn next to her name. She doubly hoped he missed the look of bliss on her face as she took the first sip of the drink. 

His eyes were anything but focused on the tabletop he was wiping down, so he definitely did not miss them. 

***

The next time she went to the coffee shop, she didn’t wear the thrown together look of sweats and a hoodie. Instead she wore a pair of dark jeans and a cat sweater, because it never got cold enough in Arcadia to truly warrant winter clothing. 

The reason she returned was because the coffee she had gotten last time was heavenly and she needed to work on her application for an unpaid internship at the local hospital and it was totally not because of the sarcastic but super-hot barista that had flirted with her. No, that definitely was not her motivation for going back. 

This time she was very mindful not to collide with the glass door again, especially since there were significantly more people around than her previous evening visit. 

Once she reached the front of the line she ordered a small peppermint hot cocoa. An additional guy manned the counter today, helping to make and serve the drinks during the rush. The new guy turned around to give Clarke her drink, while shouting over his shoulder, “Hey, Blake, is this the cute girl you were telling me about?”

Suddenly other barista looked very flustered, “Yeah, the one and only, um she was the one who ran into…. uh the door.”

At this point, Clarke was very amused at the familiar banter between the co-workers that occurred as she picked up her drink. She settled back into her corner, savoring small sips of her drink.

Miller looked incredibly satisfied with himself playing matchmaker. “I promise, I will soon be your favorite person. Possibly second to blondie but I am okay with that.” 

“Not for long if you keep on giving my number to strangers,” Blake replied while making the next customer’s order. 

“Only to the girls you like because you’re too chicken to ask them out yourself. C’mon, I’m the wingman of your dreams!”

***

Bellamy was on his break when he finally talked to Clarke again. “I apologize for Miller. He’s, uh, very forward,” rubbing his neck nervously. 

Clarke laughed, “It’s alright. My friend Raven’s the same. But at least I have the name and number of the Good Samaritan who was concerned about the status of a concussion that I did not have.”

He gave her an easy smile from across the table and shifted in his chair, “Bellamy Blake, at your service. So I’d offer to buy you a coffee, but since you already have one, how does dinner sound?”

She fiddled with her cup for a moment. “Yeah, I’d love that. What day works for you?”

“I have Mondays off?”

“Sorry can’t do that. My friend Octavia decided we needed to have a girl’s night out to celebrate our survival of first semester. I can’t believe she managed to get me to agree to it,” she said with a breathy laugh. 

He suddenly looked startled. “Octavia Blake?”

“Yeah, you know her?” Clarke looked slightly confused.

“We’re kind of related. And by related I mean she’s my little sister who always gets into trouble, and I, as the responsible older brother, has to bail her out of said trouble.”

“Oh my god you are the cliché hot, older brother,” the words kind of tumbling out of her mouth. She gasped, “You’re Bellamy, like picked her up when she was blackout drunk and took her trick or treating as a child. I mean she kind of made you sound like a dick during the whole Lincoln situation you two had going on.”

He held his hand to his chest, “Oh, Princess, you wound me! But he’s so much older and frankly I’m still not comfortable with it. Like who dates the TA for their Russian --”

“—Calm down, she’s an adult, you don’t have to be so protective now! They’re so lovey-dovey together it’s adorable and sickening. Plus isn’t your sister’s best friend kind of off limits?”

He huffed in disbelief. “What, do you want me to get her blessing? Calm down Clarke, it’s not like we’re getting married.”

“I’ll give you a pity laugh on that one. Very appropriate for a girl you just met. Sorry, I have to get going for a lunch date with Raven. But I’ll see you around, Bellamy. Maybe sooner than later.” She gave him a wink and strolled out into the cool midday air, trying to ignore how good his name felt rolling off of her tongue. 

Later that day, Bellamy felt his phone buzz towards the end of his shift, and he probably shouldn’t be on his phone during work because that’s bad employee conduct but screw it there was no one in line anyways. 

Unknown: Tuesday sound good?

B: But Princess, what happened to Octavia’s approval?

C: Well I told her about the hot barista and she told me to go for it. Does that count?

B: My, my. I didn’t know you had it in you to betray your BFF. 

C: I’m not lying to her, just omitting information. 

B: I knew there was a reason I liked you. I’ll see you at 7, Princess.


End file.
